Variables
by whimsicalwishes
Summary: Chika/Shito. Lemon. “Forget about love. I don’t even know if I like you. I don’t even know if I can.” Out of all of the things Shito could do, this would be the hardest. “But I’ll try.”


**Warning:** Shameless smut…maybe. There's a little plot. Or not. Who knows.

* * *

It was one of those rare times when Sotetsu dropped by. They were all gathered in the living room, listening to one of his stories.

Personally, Shito thought it was stupid.

"I'll have you know, large intestine is the best!" Everyone cringed at this except for him. Large intestine was a common food in China—nothing to be afraid of.

"Oi." Chika roughly elbowed him in the ribs. "Why are you looking so indifferent? You've had large intestine before, haven't you? You freak." Shito narrowed his eyes at him.

"You want to go?" he asked dangerously.

The other boy grinned. "Anything to get me away from here."

"That's all nice and well, but that would be rather rude to Sotetsu-kun, wouldn't it?" Ferryman waved his hands, smiling wryly. Both boys glared at him.

"Whatever." Shoving his hands in his pockets, Shito stood up. "I'm out of here."

The night air was refreshing. If he was new here, the cemetery would've disturbed him greatly, but after coming out here almost every day, he almost forgot that it was there altogether. Sighing and looking up at the sky, he noticed that it was a full moon tonight.

Toho had been messing with his things again. Today was not a good day. But really, now that Shito thought about it, there were very few days that were actually good.

"Feeling a little emo?"

Chika was usually the reason why.

"Shut up." Dropping his gaze from the moon back to the ground, Shito brushed past Chika. He didn't feel like arguing today. He was too tired to.

"Hey. Don't ignore me." Chika grabbed his shoulder, turning him around.

"You're not worth my acknowledgement." He wondered how well he came off as nonchalant. He was probably doing rather well, judging from Chika's rising temper. That kid could never control his feelings correctly.

Well, not like Shito could judge. He didn't really have any feelings to control.

"Oi. What's up?" Chika placed his hands on his hips, speculating him closely. Shito scowled.

"None of your business."

"Here I am, being nice for once and asking if anything's wrong, and you treat me like that." Chika's laugh was empty. "I shouldn't have expected anything more from you. And here I thought we were buddies." Shito's frown only deepened at this. He hated it when Chika said they were friends. It was fine when Michiru said it, because she kept her word—but Chika would seemingly forget about it in the next minute, and they'd be pummeling each other all over again.

Frankly, he was tired of it.

"Listen." He took two steps towards Chika, who took two wary steps back, making contact with the wall of the building. "I don't need you to worry about me. I don't care about you." His hand came to a rest on the wall beside his head. He could feel Chika's breathing speed up with his anger. It was annoying.

"I thought we went over this, you asshole," he snarled. "Despite everything, we're partners. We might as well make things bearable until we can repay our debt."

"Oh?" Shito raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a little strange of you? Usually, you'd be throwing punches at me by now."

"Do you want me to?" Chika's voice was low and threatening.

"Preferably not." Shito took a step back. "You'd dirty my clothes."

It was then that Chika _did_ punch him, and everything went back to normal again. Of course, not that Shito thought there was much of a difference anyway. Chika was probably just having once of his emotional girl moments.

* * *

"U-Um, Shito-kun…t-this is for you!" The girl held out a letter, eyes shut and fearful.

That made the third one this month.

He restrained a sigh, and forced a smile. Even though he didn't really mean it, he knew it looked sincere. "Thank you, but I can't accept that." And then there were the tears. "It's not that there's something wrong with you—I just don't feel that you're my type."

"B-But…" Her grip tightened on the envelope, causing it to crinkle. "Will you please take it a-anyway?"

He scratched his head. "I suppose. Thank you." The letter felt precious. Something he shouldn't be touching.

"You're welcome." She wiped away her tears hastily, forcing a smile. She had a rather pretty face. "Um, if you don't mind me asking…there have been rumors lately…"

"Rumors?"

"About you…with Chika-kun…" At this point, the girl's cheeks flushed a deep red.

The scowl that met his lips was almost immediate. "I have nothing to do with that guy," he said bitterly.

"O-Oh. I'm sorry. So you like…women?"

"I have no preference," he said, avoiding the question. "I'm not looking for a relationship right now. Please leave me alone." And he turned sharply on his heels and walked away, the love letter crumpled in his hand. He didn't care.

When he slipped into his seat beside Chika for class, the other boy scowled. "Another one?"

"What? Jealous?"

"You're gay anyway."

"And I still attract more people of both genders." He stared at the crumpled up letter in front of him, wondering if he should read it. The words, _To Shito-kun_, were written very sincerely on the envelope.

"Tch. But not the one you want. I've seen you staring at Otsu-san more than I'd like."

Hey. For the record, Otsu was hot. "Don't deny the fact that you think Sotetsu is attractive."

"I don't. At least I'm man enough to admit my sexuality. Unlike you."

"Are you _asking_ me to kill you?" When the teacher entered the classroom, the students fell silent. Shito took the crumpled letter and shoved it into his pocket.

Maybe he'd read it one day, when he had the capability to.

* * *

"Get out."

"I can't sleep."

"I don't care. Get _out_."

Chika said nothing, but didn't leave either. Shito didn't expect him to. Instead, he heard him close the door and walk towards him. He scowled into his pillow. Chika was always doing this lately—ever since he had been kidnapped a couple of months back, he would periodically come into his room in the middle of the night to talk, as if making sure that he was still human.

Shito thought this terribly ironic, as he wasn't even human at all.

The bed moved a little to accommodate Chika's weight when he sat on the end of it. Shito curled into himself, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

"Hey. You're not tired, right?"

"Not anymore, since I'm thinking of all the different ways I could mutilate you. What time is it, anyway?"

"About two in the morning."

"Dammit, Akatsuki, if you don't stop this, I'm going to kill you."

"You always say that, but you never do."

"Once we repay our debt, it'll be on the top of my to-do list."

They lapsed into a silence after that, and Shito almost drifted off again, forgetting that Chika was there altogether, but he spoke again, breaking the lulling hum of the heaters in the basement.

"You're okay with my sexuality, right, Shito?"

The fact that Chika was gay came out a couple of days after Shito's kidnapping. Personally, it didn't come as much of a surprise—Chika had never shown any particular interest towards women—even that time at the hot springs when Michiru was in nothing but a towel. And in a way, Shito was a little relieved—it meant that he wasn't the only gay one around. He was a little more relaxed with his sexuality after that.

"Whether you like men or women really isn't my concern."

"Why do you always say that?"

"Say what?" He rolled over so he could see Chika. He was sitting near his feet, hunched over and staring at the ground. Personally, Shito thought that he was being way too emotional lately.

"Say things that you don't mean. You always talk shit about me, but everyone knows that you don't really hate me. Or any of us. Can't you just say what you feel?"

Sometimes, things weren't that simple. Shito's fingers curled loosely around his sheets. There were times when he felt like everyone at Z-Loan was his friend—but it would be stupid to tell them of his problems or his past or who he really was. Growing close to them would be stupid on his part—eventually, they would die, and he would continue living—and what would he be left with then?

Nothing, that was what.

"I do say what I feel," he said flatly. "In truth, I hate you." At his words, Chika's head snapped in his direction, eyes flashing. Shito always envied that—how he was always so full of burning emotion. How could someone possibly feel so much?

"How could you say that?" Chika's voice shook—from anger, he was sure.

"I open my mouth and articulate. Something even you can do, I'm sure."

"You don't hate me. You don't." There was something in Chika's expression that Shito couldn't quite place. It'd been so long since he'd been in close contact with real humans with real human feelings. He couldn't differentiate one emotion from another anymore, unless it was anger. Specifically, Chika's anger.

"Don't assume what my feelings are. And don't deny that you hate me just as much." Shito's eyes narrowed. "We've hated each other from day one."

"Is it so wrong that I might actually _like_ you?" Chika shouted suddenly, and immediately, everything stilled.

"Heh." He couldn't help but smirk. "You're softer than I thought."

"No, Shito. Look at me." He looked. "Answer me. Is it so wrong that I might actually like you?" There was a strange solemnity in his voice, and he didn't know how to take it.

He assessed the situation carefully. "I don't bend that way."

Chika scoffed. "Bullshit. Everyone knows you're gay." Ah. So he was correct in assuming that he meant that he liked him as more than a friend. This wasn't new experience as far as females went, but Shito wasn't sure how to respond to a male. Well, he wasn't sure how to respond to Chika in general.

"I mean," he corrected himself, "I don't bend _your_ way." It was safest to push him away. Anything else was unknown territory.

It was quiet for a moment when both boys stared each other down—and then Chika lunged with inhumane speed. Shito braced himself in his disadvantageous position for the blow, but it never came. He became painfully aware of the evenly distributed weight on either side of his hips and shoulders.

"What," he said shortly, removing his arms from his face. "Did I touch a soft spot?"

He didn't like the way Chika was hovering over him. It was too close, too…not violent for his liking.

"You don't feel that way," the other boy whispered, voice hoarse. Shito had no idea how to respond. He didn't move when Chika's head fell, his forehead nestling right in the crook of his neck. He couldn't find his voice to tell him to get off.

He could've said it felt wrong, but how could it possibly feel wrong when his entire life was wrong anyway? Eventually, even the wrong became right.

* * *

"Tch, that was worth nothing." Chika scowled as his katana disappeared and they traded hands again.

"What did you expect?" Shito twisted the wrist so it would fit properly onto his arm. "That took us less than two minutes."

"Totally not worth the effort…"

"That's one hundred yen less for us to pay off. Kita-san wasn't even around to help." Shito looked down at his right hand, and scowled. "You dirtied it. I'm going to the convenience store."

"What? Why?"

"Because it has a washroom, you idiot."

"Why can't you just wait 'til you get home? Afraid your socks will bunch up if you run?"

Sometimes, Shito was certain that Chika existed just to annoy the hell out of him. The frown was set on his lips the entire way to the nearest convenience store. He stalked straight to the back, where the men's washroom was.

"You're so OCD all the time," Chika continued as Shito washed his hands. "You always have to be perfectly clean, those stupid collectables in your room can't even be a millimeter off, you hate it when people touch your stuff…" He calmly turned off the water and grabbed some paper towels, and wiped his hands clean. Then, turning towards Chika and stepping towards him, threw a punch straight at his jaw. "Ow! What the hell, you bastard!"

"You deserved it." Feeling satisfied, he adjusted his collar before making his way out of the washroom.

That was, until Chika pulled him back and delivered a punch of his own.

He was like a kid. Shito couldn't understand him. One minute he was perfectly calm, and then next, a tornado of frustration and anger. Where was all of this energy from? Where could he possibly get it?

But maybe he understood a little—because that very same tornado was feeding his own energy right now.

"I can't wait 'til I actually get to kill you—" Chika caught his punch singlehandedly, catching him off guard. He frowned in distaste. The fight was over for now. This time, Chika won.

But when Shito made a move to pull his hand away, he didn't let go.

"What do you want," he said shortly, glaring at the other boy. He could only handle so much of his mood swings.

"I want you to tell me"—his face loomed closer—"every single thought that crosses your mind. Starting now."

"What the hell are you talking about—"

"Everything. It might be the random thoughts about how one strand of your hair is out of place, or how sexy I am—just everything that crosses your mind—say it."

_If you don't step away from me, I'll kill you, and _is_ a strand of my hair out of place and you're disgusting, your breath is condensing on my face and _stop getting closer_ and I swear to God if you don't let go of me, I'm going to rip out your spleen and shove it down your throat and don't you _dare_ smirk at me like that and—oh, okay, maybe you're sexy, just a little…wait, no!_

The kiss was tentative and soft at first, until Shito bit Chika's lip. Hard.

The other boy looked absolutely livid—and kind of stupid, really, with his bottom lip coated with his dark blood. "I swear to fucking God…"

Shito's expression was unreadable. It was hard to display any one emotion when even he wasn't sure what he was feeling. "If you swear too much, even God won't save you." But both of them knew that there wasn't a god out there for them.

Chika kissed him again, rougher this time, with enough force to drive Shito backwards and slamming against the walls of one of the stalls. The sound of the collision echoed in the washroom, and all he could really think about was how revolting Chika's blood tasted and how he had to situate his feet shoulder width apart just so he could keep himself upright and how Chika took advantage of this and had his thigh press against his crotch and—

His hand gripped the other boy's jaw so hard, he could've broken it if he applied a little more pressure.

"Touch me again," Shito hissed, voice dangerously low, "and I will _not_ hesitate to kill you."

Because killing was the only thing he was familiar with, and what more could he do when he was in unknown territory?

* * *

"Chika-kun, I bought the sushi you wanted!"

"Oh, thanks, Gopher. This looks so fresh! Do you want to share?"

"Really? You'd let me? Thanks!"

"Only if you pay for what you eat."

"…That's a bit much, don't you think?" Michiru glanced over at Shito, who was careful not to make eye contact. "Shito-kun! Would you like to have some sushi too?"

On a normal occasion, he would've accepted grudgingly, or said something like, "Looking at _that_ guy immediately makes me lose my appetite." But today wasn't a normal occasion. Actually, since the washroom incident a week ago, nothing had been normal anymore. Things had been tense between him and Chika, and it had become increasingly difficult to work with him while they were hunting zombies.

So instead, he settled on, "Thanks, but I don't feel like sushi today," and left the kitchen.

He couldn't face Chika when he had no idea how to respond to him.

* * *

"I'll count to three. If you don't move by then, I'll kill you."

Chika scowled. "I got here first, you pathetic excuse of a zombie—wait your turn."

Shito was not in a good mood. It was becoming harder and harder to actually wake up with a good mood at all. "_I_ was here first—you just stepped in front of me like the insensitive lowlife you are."

"The last time I checked, this bath was meant to fit more than one person. I don't mind sharing."

Normally, Shito wouldn't have minded either. But with what happened at the convenience store, he wanted to take some precautions. He was sure that Chika got the hint, though—when he told him to back off, he sounded so convincing, even Shito was beginning to believe himself.

"No," he said flatly. "I'm going first. I feel disgusting."

"There you are with your OCD again. Just share, you priss."

But he really _was_ feeling disgusting, and he didn't want to waste anymore time arguing with him when he could be cleaning himself. So he scoffed, brushing past the other boy and entering the bathroom. He quickly stripped off his clothes and placed them in one of the little cubbyholes, proceeding to the cleaning area with his toiletries. He could hear Chika following suit.

While both boys were soaping up and shampooing their hair, an awkward silence fell over them. Well, it might've not been awkward for Chika, but it was awkward for Shito.

"Stop treating me like I'm scum." Chika's voice echoed in the bathroom.

Shito barely hid his snort, pouring water all over himself. "You _are_ scum." Goosebumps rose on his skin from the lack of warmth around him.

"And stop treating me like I'm a child, too."

"You _are_ a child." He didn't understand why Chika was telling him these things. He'd always treated him this way—what made all of it so different now? (Something in the back of his mind knew, but he didn't want to acknowledge it. The thought that Chika might actually _like_ him was…far too alien for his liking. The taste of his blood was still lingering on his tongue, and he hated it.)

"I'm seventeen, Shito. Living alone and taking care of myself for a lot longer than you take me for. I may act like a child, but that doesn't mean I am one."

"Stop taking everything so seriously. It's weird." Standing up, Shito moved onto soaking in the actual bath. He usually stayed there for long periods of time—it relaxed his muscles and helped him think. On more than one occasion, Michiru had entered the room without knowing that he was still in there.

"I'm just trying to be a bit more like you." He heard some splashing, and a minute later, felt the ripples of the water as Chika entered the bath.

Shito cracked an eye open to his right, feeling far too relaxed to glare. "Don't sit so close to me. It's creepy." When he glanced down into the water, he could see Chika's submerged hand—almost as if he wanted to reach for something. But he pulled it back.

The other boy didn't respond, but he didn't move either. So Shito did the liberty and moved instead.

But Chika only sat closer to him again.

"_Stop_ that," Shito growled, snapping his head towards him. Chika's eyes were half-lidded and hazy—sleepy, almost.

"Stop what?" His voice came out languid and…oddly sensual, actually. It was weird. Shito tensed when he shifted, his head coming to a rest on his shoulder.

No. This was wrong. This was _so_ wrong.

"Get off me," he said quietly, but his voice lacked the threat it usually had. He was just so tired. Tired of arguing with Chika, tired of thinking of how to deal of Chika—he was just tired of Chika.

Chika tilted his head, lips pressing against Shito's jaw in a soft kiss. Shito couldn't describe it as anything—not uncertain, not needy—it was just a kiss. He closed is eyes, but his brow furrowed. He was sure Chika noticed. Somehow, this bath just wasn't as pleasant as it was supposed to be.

Beside him, Chika shifted (probably thinking that his silence was some sort of acceptance, that dumbass), and one of his hands came to a rest on top of Shito's.

He kept very still.

Chika should've been heavier, but because they were both submerged in water, he didn't feel much of his weight when he sat on Shito's lap. And it wasn't in much of the innocent way a girl would, either—he was unashamed as he faced him, legs spread and on either side of his body.

"You don't have to do anything, y'know." Chika's voice came out uncharacteristically soft. "I can do all of the work."

"I'm not having sex with you, if that's what you think." Shito carefully kept his eyes shut. He was afraid of what he'd see if he opened them. He was afraid of what new feelings might surface if he saw what was shining in Chika's eyes.

"You're a zombie, Shito." Lips pressed against the corner of his mouth. "Not a corpse. Your body still responds to stimuli."

And coupled with the warm, almost hot water, Chika's touches _did_ have a bit of an effect on him. His hands massaged his shoulders, rubbed his arms almost soothingly—but he did nothing blunt or straightforward, as Shito assumed he would. Chika didn't actually kiss him. He suspected he knew why, considering what happened the last time he tried.

But he found himself wondering what it'd be like to be kissed under these circumstances—almost _wanting_ to be kissed.

And this was the point, Shito thought to himself mildly, where he lost his sanity.

He found his breath hitching when Chika's hands tentatively ran down his sides. "Do you like this?" Chika's breath was hot against the shell of his ear.

"Shut up." He had far too much dignity to admit that it didn't feel bad.

"Can I kiss you?"

He hesitated momentarily. "No." But Chika took his pause of uncertainty as a yes, because their mouths were pressed together in the next moment, and _oh God what was he supposed to do?_

Their lips were clumsy against each other, but neither of them had ever been graceful together. Shito found his hands clenching into fists at his side. It would be so easy just to relax and let it happen…how long had he been fighting against the current for?

The evil voice in the back of his mind whispered maliciously, _Too long._

And so he let himself sigh a little when Chika's fingers pinched his nipple. He couldn't risk opening his eyes now. He could imagine the smirk on the other boy's face. If he saw even the smallest hint of evidence that Chika was the one dominating, pure instinct would make him shove him away.

The heat in the room was almost intoxicating. Their tongues meshed together, slow and lazy and maybe even a little sloppy. It bothered Shito, but not enough for him to fix it. He couldn't quite place how Chika tasted—but it was certainly better than his blood. He kind of tasted like…regret and purpose and drive all rolled into one. And maybe a little like cookies. He couldn't be sure.

Chika took his time. It was only once he had enough of Shito's mouth did his hands move down lower. Shito froze at that, hands clenching Chika's hips in warning.

"I am _not_ stopping," the other boy said determinedly. "I've come too far to stop now." But he was anything but harsh when he touched Shito's member, which was still soft.

Shito never imagined it to be like this. He would die before admitting that he wondered what sex with Chika would be like, but the few times he did, he'd always thought that it would be rough and inconsiderate. He'd thought that there would be violence and curses and blood involved.

"I feel the need to point out that if you don't breathe, you'll die."

Shito breathed.

He tried not to sigh when Chika's hand ran along his length several times. His grip relaxed on his hips, but he never really let go. It was a lazy sort of action—by the time he was at full arousal, he could feel Chika's half hard member pressing up right against his.

Was it wrong to think that it felt erotic?

It was more of the fact that it was Chika than anything. If he was with a woman, or even with Otsu, he wouldn't respond this way. He was sure his body wouldn't be so hypersensitive to anyone's touch but Chika's. It was because he spent so much time trying to avoid him or predict when he'd next attack him that even now, when he was sure Chika wouldn't rip off his penis (at least, he hoped he wouldn't), instinct made him aware of everything that was happening.

"Look at me." Chika's wet hand came up to brush away his stray locks of hair, still damp. "Shito. Open your eyes, dammit." Shito shut him up by reaching for his face and pulling him into a kiss.

He couldn't look. He just couldn't.

As they engaged in a small tongue war, his hands went below the surface of the water again, and hesitantly touched Chika's erection. There was a distinct pause in the other boy's movements, before he continued on as if nothing had happened.

Shito scowled against his mouth. They were about the same size. Bastard.

"Didn't think you'd be kind enough to get me ready"—Chika's voice came out embarrassingly husky—Shito's cheeks flushed for him—"but I'm good now." He then shifted, and his hands hooked the joint beneath his knees, and—

"Absolutely _not_." Shito's eyes flashed open then, in a full-on glare, and he pulled his legs back from Chika's hands. "I am _not_ letting you take me."

Chika blinked, looking hesitant. "Well, you could top, if you like…" Wow. He really must be horny to not put up a fight.

"Nothing is going up anyone's ass. That's unsanitary."

"Sex is pretty unsanitary in general, Shito."

"Which is why I don't do it." His eyes narrowed, and Chika stared back, unwavering. Then he grinned, situating himself in Shito's lap again, grabbing his erection in the process. Shito hissed, eyes narrowing.

Chika's grin was unnerving. "Whoever can make the other come first, wins." Which, Shito thought, clearly put him to a disadvantage, because Chika had been touching him first, therefore meaning that he was aroused for longer. It was obvious who was going to come first.

But that didn't mean that he wasn't going to try.

This was stupid, he thought. Not just stupid—it was _wrong_. What happened to the hatred between them? Where did it go? Where was the Chika he had known for months?

He took Chika's member with no hesitation, giving it a few firm pumps. Chika mirrored his actions on his own shaft. They both stared each other down, and there was the first flicker of fear in his mind. This was what he wanted to avoid.

Chika was alive. His eyes burned with this intensity that Shito couldn't remember possessing in the last couple of decades. Although he was bound by that black ring around his neck, although he was a zombie—if he was defined by his soul and nothing else, then he was human and thriving and clearly outshone Shito by a thousand light years.

And what was he? A monster, that was what.

He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes again, but the damage was done. The image of Chika's face was engraved in his mind now, flashing and permanent behind his eyelids. It was like a chain reaction—igniting some sort of explosive and burning along the wick—and it'd inevitably reach the core—

He tried not to think about it. It was all he could do now.

It didn't take him long to realize that Chika mirrored whatever action he did. If he swirled his palm over the head of his erection, the same happened to him. He could manipulate his actions so he got the most pleasure out of it—but he wasn't sure if this was a good thing, because that meant he was going to come faster.

"Shit," Chika muttered, forehead resting on the curve of Shito's neck. He felt so much hotter than the actual water around them. "I'm close."

Those words were enough to make Shito's grip on Chika's erection tighten. Maybe he'd win. But what was the prize of winning? He didn't know, and yet, he was determined to win anyway.

"Don't stop." Chika's voice came out throaty. "I'll kill you if you stop."

Experimentally, Shito's free hand reached out and massaged one of Chika's sacs. The result was almost immediate.

Shito flinched when Chika bit him, teeth digging into his flesh. Now, this was a wound he couldn't ask Yuuta to heal. Chika's entire body froze, his grip tightening on Shito's erection in the process. Shito could imagine his face—the way he looked back when Shiba betrayed him—but maybe ten times more pained and at the same time, a hundred times more pleasured.

This was something Shito, and no one else could do.

"You're useless," he snapped, swatting Chika's hand off of his own erection and pumping himself. His own breath became labored, and when Chika finally went slack on top of him, he felt another hand close on top of his, guiding him along. Chika's tongue swirled lazily over the wound that he had created, and he wondered if he liked the taste of his blood.

It wasn't supposed to be an earth-shattering orgasm at any rate, but somehow, with the thought that Chika was sitting on him, that Chika was touching him and Chika's tongue was licking his skin—it seemed to amplify it tenfold, and his back arched into the boy sitting on top of him, eyes screwed shut and toes curling. A low groan involuntarily escaped his throat, but he didn't even have time to be embarrassed—Chika's fingers were brushing across his nipples and came up to cradle his face, waiting patiently as he drifted down from his momentary high.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" It almost sounded like he was mocking him, but his eyes were too soft for that. Those eyes were his demise.

Shito felt fidgety, still breathing heavily. "We need to drain and refill the tub. It's absolutely filthy now."

"Shush, don't ruin the moment."

"There _is_ no moment. Get off." But Chika didn't listen—something he was so prone to do—and his hands went into his hair, almost—dare he say it—_stroking_ it.

"Such a spoilsport." Lips kissed Shito's brow, his ear, his cheek, his jaw line—and finally his lips—something he was unconsciously anticipating. He responded to Chika's touch in a way that kind of disgusted him (why _Chika_, of all people?)—but he found a warm feeling swelling in his stomach that made him kiss back more earnestly than he'd like.

He pulled away, although a little reluctantly. "We _really_ need to change this water. And wash again."

"Shouldn't you be more concerned with your prize?"

It took a moment before Shito to remember that he had won their little contest. "What's the prize?"

"Mm." Chika looked unnervingly comfortable, sitting on his lap. "You can do whatever you want with me for a week." His lips curved into a sly grin, and Shito wondered what he had in mind.

"Midnight, my room."

Chika's grin widened. "Ready for round two?"

"No. We're sleeping. You're not allowed to come over until everyone's asleep, in case people get the wrong message."

"It's not wrong if it's the truth."

"It's not. Now get off me before I kill you."

* * *

It was a little cramped in his bed for two, but despite that, he found it a lot easier to sleep. Chika's warmth next to him made him relaxed and content in a way he never knew was possible. When was the last time Shito had been content?

He didn't hesitate to punch the other boy in the face, though, when he reached out and grabbed his crotch.

* * *

_owari._

**

* * *

A/N:** I changed my mind. There is absolutely no plot whatsoever. (I was so disappointed to find only five M-rated fics with this pairing. So I contributed to it. Now there are six. :)

I haven't written in this fandom for about…two years. The last time I did, I don't think I grasped their characters properly—did I do better this time? :/

**

* * *

OMAKE**

"Chika-kun…?" Michiru watched her friend in question. He had a pink, flowery apron on, and a bandana on his head, pushing his messy locks back. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning," he muttered, clearly angry.

"Shito-kun's room?"

"Unfortunately."

She glanced into the room that belonged to the other zombie, and found Shito sitting there on the bed, happily reading a book.

"The dusting's finished." Chika leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

Shito looked up from his book, glancing at Michiru for a moment before a small smirk spread across his lips. "Good. Now do my laundry for me."

"I _hate_ you."

Something told her she didn't want to know.


End file.
